What tho’ on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, and a’ that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man’s a man for a’ that. For a’ that, and a’ that, Their tinsel show, and a’ that; The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor, Is King o’ men for a’ that. Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that; Tho’ hundreds worship at his word, He’s but a coof for a’ that: For a’ that, and a’ that, His riband, star, and a’ that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a’ that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a’ that; But an honest man’s aboon his might, Guid faith he mauna fa’ that! For a’ that, and a’ that, Their dignities, and a’ that, The pith o’ sense, and pride o’ worth, Are higher rank than a’ that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a’ that; That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth, May bear the gree, and a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, It’s coming yet, for a’ that, That man to man the warld o’er, Shall brothers be for a’ that. HERE’S A HEALTH TO THEM THAT’S AWA Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa; And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause, May never guid luck be their fa’! It’s guid to be merry and wise, It’s guid to be honest and true, It’s guid to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the buff and the blue. May liberty meet wi’ success! May prudence protect her frae evil! May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist, And wander their way to the devil! Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa; Here’s a health to Tammie, the Norland laddie, That lives at the lug o’ the law! Here’s freedom to him that wad read, Here’s freedom to him that wad write! There’s nane ever fear’d that the truth should be heard, But they wham the truth wad indite. Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s Chieftain M’Leod, a Chieftain worth gowd, Tho’ bred among mountains o’ snaw! DOES HAUGHTY GAUL Does haughty Gaul invasion threat? Then let the loons beware, Sir, There’s wooden walls upon our seas, And volunteers on shore, Sir. The Nith shall run to Corsincon, And Criffel sink in Solway, Ere we permit a foreign foe On British ground to rally!